Sensus Orb
by miss selah
Summary: On the eve of Snape’s retirement, Hermione finds more than she ever wanted to. SnapeGranger


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Sensus Orb

* * *

"It's about time the rotten git decided to retire." Ron muttered as he packed away some of Snape's belongings. He and Harry were helping Hermione, who had been his Potion's assistant for the past ten years, and was now taking over his classes. By comparison, Snape wasn't particularly that old and his retirement announcement had come as a bit of a shock to the staff (and was, as to be expected, quite celebrated amongst the students.) He was fairly young – a bit younger than her father, actually – but something in his eyes was too old, had seen too much.

Hermione had often wondered if it had just been that being the least favorite Professor at Hogwarts. . . or something else?

"Shame, though, that it couldn't have been while we were going here," Harry mused with a grin, "how great would it have been to _Hermione _as a teacher?"

Ron had the nerve to actual shudder.

"What?" Hermione asked, opening another empty box. "I'm not that bad."

"Are you kidding me?!" Ron exclaimed, leaping up over dramatically and knocking over a handful of boxes that clattered dangerously. Hermione winced, but she didn't hear the sound of tinkling glass, so she let out a sigh. "You're such a stickler for information! If one of your students doesn't know an answer, your going to. . . going to. . . use that _mommy _voice of yours!"

Harry laughed. "As opposed to, oh, making them carve the answer in to their wrist?"

"Or drink their own mistaken potions?" Hermione's eyes were narrow on Ron.

Ron shrugged. "I'm just saying. . ."

"You ninny, you hate all teachers, so just sit down and help me with these boxes."

"Granger." Snape whispered politely when he passed her on his way in to the dungeons.

"Snape." She answered equally as coolly. Ten years had given her a deeper look in to the Professor she once hated. She could dislike him, yes, maybe even despise him, but she could no longer say that she hated him. He had given up too much in the war, loved too deeply, for her to ever hate him. She respected him far too much to ever hate him.

Still. . . where had all that warmth gone, all that love that he had given to Lily? Had it died along with her? Was it still buried deep inside of him?

"You're staring, Granger." His back was to her, and he was pulling out new boxes.

Ron and Harry, in an attempt to avoid a confrontation, had left an hour before she had said that Snape was coming, just in case he had decided to show up early. It had been a quiet hour, but. . . after spending so much time in Snape's presence, she was beginning to see why he enjoyed it so much.

"Just thinking, Snape…" she conceded, and taped up her box. The room was full of them now. There were so many potions and they couldn't over stuff one box, and they couldn't mix two incompatible potions with another, nor could they use magic to simply whisk it away to Snape's home in Dover while they were still in Hogwarts. Still, the monotony was a nice change of pace, and something about the sound of Snape's forced movements were a comfort to her.

Hermione moved over to his desk with a new box and opened the bottom drawer. Curiously, Snape looked up, his eyes a bit wild, but Hermione didn't see – she was too busy studying a curious, churning orb the likes of which she had never seen before.

"What's this?" She asked the second before her fingertips grazed it.

As soon as she did, she was barricaded with emotions – anger, hate, jealousy. . . but also love. Something warm and soft, and she held it close to her and tried to ignore the way that all of the other turbulent emotions whipped at her flesh, threatening to rip her skin off.

Someone grabbed her, grabbed at her fist that was clenched around the churning orb, but it was the only thing that felt safe, so she clung to it, fighting and sobbing.

It was dangerous here, in this vortex of emotions, and she wondered how anyone could possibly _feel _so much and keep on living. Fingers slipped beneath hers and the orbs, and they tried to pry her away from it.

"Granger."

She could hear an annoyed voice, but compared to the storm that raged inside of her, it was nothing. She fought him, fought to hold on to that small bit of hope.

"Granger!"

It sounded angry now, and she sobbed for him too. It was too much. . . too powerful. . . how could she ever coexist with something so turbulent? How had she never felt this before?

Strong arms wrapped around her, hesitant and shaky, and Hermione started fiercely. Her whole body was wracked with shivering but those two strong arms held her, soothed her. Like a mother's protective touch, like the orb clasped in her fist.

Like the calm in the storm.

"Granger," she could hear Snape's voice, soft and meek, from far away, "let go of the sensus orb."

He was asking her to let go of the love? To release it? How could she? It was the only thing that was keeping her sane in this whole mess, except for…

His arms tightened around her again, this time nothing hesitant in his touch. "Hermione."

She lurched so hard she dropped it and it clinked merrily – deceivingly – against the hard ground.

Through her tears, she could see Snape's head on her shoulders, could feel his arms wrapped around her. Were those his emotions? His pain, his suffering? Had he been so overwhelmed by them that he had locked them away so that no one could find them?

She could picture it, picture him, alone in the dungeons, toying with the glass orb beneath his fingers, playing with all that turbulence and power. Those emotions were strong, ancient things – his favorite kind of thing to play with.

She could see why he had needed to retire so young.

Without making a sound, Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" She asked quietly.

For a long moment, Snape didn't answer. For a longer moment, she didn't expect him to.

But then he _did. _"Why would I share my feelings with anyone?" he asked, almost bitterly. "Who could I have possibly shared my feelings with?"

"Me."

Snape stared at her for a long moment before he finally leaned in, carefully, as not to scare her, and placed a tiny kiss on her bottom lip, so soft for a moment she thought he had only merely breathed on her, and then he pressed a bit harder and she could feel him, actually _feel _him, moving against her.

"You called me Hermione." She remembered as she tilted her chin, just a bit, and bared her neck to him.

"I've always wanted to." He confessed and took what she offered, but nothing more.

"Severus." She almost giggled on how silly it sounded. "Your parents must have hated you."

Snape bit her chin sharply. "With a name like Hermione, you're going to talk?"

He had a point. Still, she brought a finger beneath his chin and brought his lips to hers, silencing him with her kisses.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Ron whispered to Hermione from the Astronomy tower as they watched Snape's carriage disappear over the Hogwart's grounds and out of sight. "I hated him."

Harry nodded in agreement. "A real horse's ass, if you ask me."

They looked to Hermione expectantly, as if waiting for her to agree with them, but she sighed and shook her head before beginning the trek down the stairs.

She respected him far too much to watch him go.


End file.
